Your Endless Love

by Layla Hagen

  Your Endless Love

  Summer & Alex ~ The Bennett Family, Book 9

  Layla Hagen

  Dear Reader,

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  ***

  Your Endless Love

  Copyright © 2018 Layla Hagen

  Cover: RBA Designs

  Cover Photography: Sara Eirew Photographer

  Your Endless Love

  Copyright ©2018 Layla Hagen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One | Summer

  Chapter Two | Alex

  Chapter Three | Summer

  Chapter Four | Alex

  Chapter Five | Alex

  Chapter Six | Summer

  Chapter Seven | Summer

  Chapter Eight | Alex

  Chapter Nine | Summer

  Chapter Ten | Summer

  Chapter Eleven | Alex

  Chapter Twelve | Summer

  Chapter Thirteen | Alex

  Chapter Fourteen | Alex

  Summer

  Chapter Fifteen | Summer

  Chapter Sixteen | Alex

  Chapter Seventeen | Summer

  Alex

  Chapter Eighteen | Alex

  Summer

  Chapter Nineteen | Summer

  Chapter Twenty | Alex

  Chapter Twenty-One | Summer

  Chapter Twenty-Two | Alex

  Chapter Twenty-Three | Summer

  Chapter Twenty-Four | Summer

  Alex

  Chapter Twenty-Five | Alex

  Chapter Twenty-Six | Summer

  Chapter Twenty-Seven | Summer

  Chapter Twenty-Eight | Summer

  Alex

  Chapter Twenty-Nine | Summer

  Chapter Thirty | Summer

  Chapter Thirty-One | Alex

  Chapter Thirty-Two | Alex

  Chapter Thirty-Three | Summer

  Chapter Thirty-Four | Three months later | Summer

  Epilogue | One year later | Summer

  Author Contact | Website

  Other Books by Layla Hagen

  Book 7 in the series: Your Fierce Love

  Book 8: Your One True Love

  The Lost Series | Lost in Us: The story of James and Serena

  Found in Us: The story of Jessica and Parker

  Caught in Us: The story of Dani and Damon

  Standalone USA TODAY BESTSELLER | Withering Hope

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Summer

  “There are too many options.” I flick my gaze from the Cinderella figurine to the carriage on the shelf below. Next to me, my brother Daniel seems to have as much trouble deciding as I have. We’re shopping for presents for our niece’s birthday. As we head to the next aisle, his phone chimes.

  “Great news,” he announces, his attention on the small screen. “Alex Westbrook’s team just informed me he can drop by St. Anne’s next week.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I clasp my hands together, grinning. St. Anne’s is a group home where I often volunteer. Nothing makes the kids’ day more than a celebrity visiting, and Alexander “Alex” Westbrook is playing their favorite superhero on the big screen. Daniel owns an adventure center, catering to a famous clientele. Ever since I found out Westbrook is his client, I pestered him about this. “You’re my favorite brother.”

  Daniel shoves his phone back in his pocket, elbowing me conspiratorially. “Don’t play the favorites game. I know you say that to all our brothers.”

  “How about, you’re my favorite brother right now?”

  “Ouch. Hurtful, but honest.”

  I sigh, tilting my head to one side. “We have seven siblings. You can’t monopolize the favorite spot all the time.”

  I love being the youngest, and I take thorough advantage of it. As a kid, I could get away with anything.

  As we step into an aisle displaying miniature musical instruments, I ask, “Does Alex have any special requests?” I’ve organized quite a few celebrity visits at the group home and know stars can be high-maintenance. Since Alex is leading the A-list in Hollywood, I imagine he’ll have some requests.

  Daniel nods, inspecting a miniature saxophone. “Yeah. He doesn’t want press or PR communication. No photos on social media.”

  That’s not what I expected. “Sure, no problem.”

  “He’s not one of those celebrities boasting about their charity work,” he says, as if reading my mind. “And since his split from Amy, he tries to keep an even lower profile.”

  “I don’t blame him. What a mess.” I’m not one to keep up with celebrity scandals and tabloids, but as Hollywood’s darlings, their split is so highly publicized, there’s no escaping it. The official reason for the split was that they simply grew apart, which the tabloids don’t believe. As such, the speculations run wild.

  I can’t imagine how dreadful it must be to have your heartbreak splashed all over the Internet and printed media. A breakup is bad enough in itself. I usually go through them by consuming copious amounts of sugar—or wine—and watching bad rom-coms with my sisters commiserating with me. But having the whole world watch your every move when you’re at a low point? That has to be a special kind of hell.

  “Audrey would love a saxophone,” I tell my brother.

  “I’m buying this one then,” Daniel announces, grabbing one of the miniature saxophones.

  “I think I’ll buy her that treasure-hunting set we saw right next to the entrance.”

  “That’s what I call an efficient shopping trip.”

  “The power of experience, brother. The power of experience.” Since all my siblings are married, and most have kids, I developed quite a knack for buying gifts.

  “Just so I’m mentally prepared, will it be one of those over-the-top parties?”

  I bring both hands to my chest theatrically. “I’m shocked you’d think otherwise. Of course it will be.” I smile sheepishly. Yeah, I might go a tad overboard when it comes to organizing our nieces and nephews’ birthday parties, but I can’t help myself. The kids love it. And so do my siblings. They just like teasing me about it. I point my forefinger at Daniel. “And don’t think you can get out of me what the theme will be. It’s a surprise.”

  “I made the meeting with Alex happen and I don’t even deserve a heads-up?”

  I narrow my eyes, recognizing one of my own tactics for luring out secrets: inducing guilt. “Nope, you don’t. And speaking of Alex, is he flying in that day from LA? Should I arrange for a car to pick him up from the airport or the hotel? I can pick him up too.”

  I can’t hide my excitement at the prospect. There’s no point lying to myself; I swoon every time I see him on screen, along with every woman in America.

  “I’ll tell you all the details as soon as I have them. But he’s moving from LA to San Francisco, so he won’t be staying in a hotel.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  I nod, my mind back to Audrey as we reach the row of treasure-hunting games. I choose the diamonds-themed one, and then we head to the cashier line. The stack of magazines next to the counter catches my attention. Two gossip magazines show Alex on the cover, looking very low-key, even sporting an unkempt beard
in one. The titles underneath are as speculative and cutting as ever: “No real-life superhero. Why did Amy leave him?” And “Lose the hobo look, Alex. No wonder Amy left you.”

  My stomach sinks. I hope Alex isn’t seeing everything that’s being written about him. Next to me, Daniel shakes his head, his gaze on the headlines as well. We pay quickly, heading out of the store. We parked next to each other, and as we reach our cars, Daniel says, “Just one thing. Promise you won’t be starstruck around Alex.”

  My brother knows me all too well. Among my many, many faults, the top are: only realizing a guy is an ass too late, a chronic inability to stop after eating one muffin, and... being starstruck whenever Daniel introduces me to one of his clients.

  “I promise I’ll try,” I say truthfully, pushing my hair out of my face as a gust of wind ruffles my shoulder-length dark hair.

  Daniel presses his lips together, smiling. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

  “You have no choice. I’m your baby sister.”

  Even though I’m twenty-eight, I still love the sound of baby sister. So much sweeter than youngest sister.

  “And thanks again for getting him to agree to the visit,” I add before Daniel can admonish me more. Plus, I really do intend to keep the fangirling to a minimum. I have a feeling Alex needs peace and quiet. The guy agreed to visit St. Anne’s when he could have easily declined, so I’m determined to make an effort.

  “No problem. Do you want to go grab dinner?”

  “Nah, I have to go back to the gallery. I just wanted to get to the store before it closed.”

  “Okay. I’ll send you all the details about Alex’s visit as soon as possible. And remember your promise, okay?”

  Sighing, I stand on my tiptoes, kissing my brother’s cheek. “Yes, yes. No need to be insufferable about it. Kiss Caroline and the kids for me.”

  “Will do.”

  As I climb into my car, I’m mentally planning the party. I arrive at the gallery after closing time. All the patrons have left, and my colleagues Jacob and Diana are already wrapping up the Monet collection. We’re shipping it back to Paris tomorrow.

  “Olivia’s already gone,” Jacob informs me, mimicking the act of wiping sweat from his brow. Our boss isn’t the easiest person to work with. Grabbing the Bubble Wrap, I help him cover one of the larger paintings.

  “Hey, don’t be so brusque,” I admonish when he turns the painting so abruptly it nearly slips between his fingers.

  “I have a date tonight, and I don’t want to be late. New girl, first impression counts.”

  I point a finger at him in warning. “Not a good enough reason to do a half-assed job. The paintings must be handled with love and care.”

  Diana narrows her eyes at him. “Summer, I suggest you and I finish the job before Jacob mucks it up because he’s hurrying.”

  Jacob grins. “That was exactly my plan.”

  “Go, go, go. Don’t unleash your non-humor on the poor girl right away,” Diana says, shooing him away. Then she pouts in my direction. “Why is it that he gets more romantic action than we do?”

  I bite back a laugh. “Must be his non-humor.”

  I don’t remember the last time I went on a date, and it doesn’t look like my luck in the dating department will change anytime soon, but I’ll be seeing the one and only Alex Westbrook in the flesh. How is that for a silver lining?

  Chapter Two

  Alex

  “I can come straight to your house after the viewing and deal with the movers,” my sister says into the phone.

  “Sophie, stop fussing over me. I’ll deal with them.”

  “Are you kidding me? We’re in the same city for the first time since we were kids. Of course I’ll fuss about you. If I don’t, who will?”

  I chuckle. “I’ll call you if I need anything. What time are you bringing Drew tomorrow?” Drew is her seven-year-old son. I can’t wait to spend the day with my nephew.

  “Does nine work?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s so psyched you’re here. Oh, shoot, I’ve got to go. My clients are here.”

  “Good luck at the viewing. See you tomorrow.”

  Sophie is a real estate agent here in San Francisco, and she found me this house. I used to fly here between movies, but I still saw her far too seldom for my taste. We’re from Portland, but she moved here after college. I’ve wanted to move out of LA for a time, and now is the perfect moment for a change of scenery.

  When my sister asked what my requirements were for the house, I just said I wanted privacy, space, and the ocean within walking distance. She found me the perfect place. She took care of furnishing it for me too. I didn’t take any furniture from the home I shared with Amy in LA, but I still had so much crap lying around there that I hired a moving company to pack it in boxes and bring it over.

  Filming of my last movie wrapped up two days ago, so I have the delivery scheduled for today. Sophie offered to take care of delivery and unpacking for me, but I want to do it myself. While on set or promoting a movie, everything is being done for me. I want to do things myself in my free time, regain some semblance of normalcy.

  I check my watch, deciding to wait five more minutes for the delivery company to show up before calling them. If they’re not on time, I’ll have to call Summer Bennett and ask her to pick me up later for the trip to the group home, and I don’t like being late.

  While I wait, I finish reading the e-mail I received when Sophie called. It’s from my manager, Preston.

  Alex,

  I’ve updated your schedule. We booked you for two events. It goes without saying, but you’re only allowed to answer any questions about Amy the way we discussed. The studio is antsy about this. You know what’s at stake.

  Antsy is an understatement. They produced the romantic comedy Amy and I starred in, and part of the marketing for the romantic comedy was relying on the real-life romance between us. They’re also producing the superhero franchise I’m part of, and we’re in talks about developing a spin-off for my superhero character. Now is not the time to make them antsy.

  I check my watch. Where is the delivery company? They should have been here five minutes ago. As if on cue, my phone rings, the company's number flashing on my screen.

  "Mr. Fulton, we're sorry, but we're stuck in traffic five blocks from your house. We'll be fifteen minutes late."

  The guy will realize who I am the second he sees me, but revealing my real name over the phone sometimes leads to unwanted paps visits.

  "Thanks for letting me know, but hurry. I have an appointment in twenty-five minutes."

  After hanging up, I immediately pull up Daniel Bennett's e-mail on my screen.

  Hey Alex!

  Talked to my sister Summer, she'll pick you up at five o'clock sharp. Here's her number in case you need it.

  Bingo. I knew he'd sent me her number. I dial it, and she answers right away.

  "Hey, Alex here."

  "Hi!" she answers in a high-pitched tone.

  "I'm sorry, but I'm going to be about fifteen minutes late. The movers bringing my things from LA should have been here by now, but they're stuck in traffic."

  "Umm, okay. No problem. I'll just wait in my car."

  "You're here already?"

  She laughs nervously. "I didn't want to be late, so I hit the road a little early, and there wasn't much traffic. I parked just in front. Hang on, I'll move the car so the moving truck can access your gate. I'm blocking it."

  Instinctively, I look out the window, but I can't see the street, obviously. Eight-feet-high evergreens surround my property, forming a thick wall.

  "Come on in after you park. You don't have to wait in the car."

  "Are you sure? I don't mind."

  "I'm not going to make you wait half an hour in your car, Summer."

  I asked to be picked up because the new car I ordered will be delivered next week, and I avoid cabs if I can.

  "Okay."

  Clicking off, I
head outside and open the door next to the double gate, just in time to see a woman climb out of a red Ford. The moment she sees me, her eyes widen, and she presses her full lips together. I switch on my camera smile, motioning with my head toward the house.

  "Come on in."

  Nodding, she rushes forward, smiling and fiddling with her thumbs. I've seen this behavior before, when it's clear someone is trying to hold back from squealing or jumping in my face and taking a selfie. I appreciate the effort.

  I close the gate the second she's through and hold out my hand.

  "I'm Alex."

  "I know. I mean, obviously you know I know." She closes her eyes and breathes in. "Sorry. I'm babbling. I'm Summer."

  Grinning, I shake her hand, then lead her to the house on the path of cobbled stone. “How long have you been waiting out there?”

  “Ten minutes. I left the gallery early because I didn’t know how the traffic would be.”

  “What do you do at the gallery?”

  “I’m a curator, but I do a bit of everything,” she explains as we step inside the house.

  I'm close enough to see she wears no makeup. She's biting on her plump lower lip, her hands crossed over her chest. She's a petite woman, but the simple black dress and wide belt she's wearing shows off her beautiful curves. When she's done inspecting the room, she focuses on me. Her eyes hold a mix of curiosity and excitement, but there is also unexpected warmth there.

  "Sorry, I'm staring," she says when our gazes meet. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she looks at the hardwood floor.

  "I'm used to it," I say honestly. Plus, I was checking her out, so I can’t exactly point fingers.

  “Now, Daniel’s told me you’re very chatty.”

  She smiles sheepishly. “Usually, yeah.”

  “He also said you can be pretty wild when you unleash your inner fangirl.”

  “He did not say that!” She stands up straighter, her cheeks turning pink. Then her ears turn pink too. Fuck, she’s cute. “Did he? Did he?”

  “Sort of. But seeing your reaction, I think the question warrants more digging.”

  She offers me a firm shake of her head. “Nope.” Then she sighs. “I might have embarrassed him once or twice when I was dying for an autograph.”